#I worked so damn hard on this drawing and those wings

[sinkat-arts]

Bokuto as the great horned owl god, Cikap Kamuy.

Our Story Bokuaka / ~9.5k / T / Mythology AU Written for the Haikyuu Mythology Exchange

Akaashi Keiji has found himself lost and alone on a mountain trail in the dead of winter. The sun is setting on him and his hopes for being saved - until he runs into an enigmatic stranger who's just as lost as he is. Who is this man with the warm, open smile and the shining golden eyes? And what kind of unlikely salvation does he bring with him?

Read it on AO3 >

[dvinefem]

untitled elriel vibes pt. 3

azriel pov time *insert me giggling & kicking my feet* if you catch any mistakes, no you didn't. i’m being sassy by saying this but: brief mention of az beating his shmeat below the cut. i know that’s soooo icky / ooc for him 😵‍💫🙄 ok bye LMAO. (& no. i cannot title this thing to save my life. its fine everything’s fine) part. 1 | part. 2

He approached the House of Wind with the early morning breeze on his back, the full moon beginning to melt away in the sky. The night they’d shared may have very well been a warped delusion he'd created for himself. But the touch of her sweet lips on his hand still lingered. Real. It was all too real. The words they’d spoken to each other echoed in his mind as he landed, tucking his wings in tight.

You are not mine to dream of, he’d said.

I think we both know that is not true, she whispered back into the ether.

He was completely, and utterly fucked.

Azriel stepped on silent feet toward his bedroom, turning the doorknob to enter just as Nesta emerged from Cassian’s room — theirs now — balancing a steaming cup of tea and smutty novel in one hand. She cleared her throat.

His shadows had warned him she was awake. Though in his dizzied state, he couldn’t quite find himself to care. He pushed open his own door anyway, flat out ignoring her, hoping she’d say nothing.

But of course, the wicked grin that crept onto her lips predicted otherwise.

“Walk of shame, shadowsinger?”

If she only knew the truth. The seemingly chaste act of sleeping in a bed of wildflowers with Elain was cause enough to damn him to hell. Cauldron boil him alive.

Slipping easily into that cool mask of indifference, he flipped the conversation. “You’re up early.”

A shrug of her shoulders. “Your brother snores like a grumbling beast.” Nesta circled him once, lazily. Like the hellcat she was, sizing up prey. “So, I am up early.” She began to stride away down the darkened hallway. Then, her voice was a but a mere whisper as she tossed over her shoulder, “And you.. smell like jasmine.”

Closing the door, he promptly thumped the back of his head against the hard wood. Once. Twice. A halfhearted attempt to knock some damn sense into himself. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why he’d convinced himself it’d be a good idea to wander into the river house garden in the middle of the night was beyond him. But just as she'd said.. being there soothed something in his depraved soul.

If he were a sane male, he would’ve seen her kneeling in the dirt — healing rotting roses with that beautiful, shimmering light — and launched into the skies. To stay away from her. Like he was meant to. It was in the best interest of the Night Court, and for all of Prythian for that matter, to keep his distance. At least, that's what he'd been begrudgingly telling himself for months now.

And yet.. her mass of golden brown waves glowed under the light of the moon. Like some long forgotten goddess. The silken pink of her nightgown far too translucent — revealing every soft curve of her body beneath. Her gentle voice so bewitching that he, a Carynthian warrior, nearly buckled at the knees from the saccharine sound.

Avoiding her for so long wreaked havoc on his entire being. Not hearing her hum absentmindedly while kneading dough in the kitchen with Nuala and Cerridwen. Not watching those beautiful brown eyes beam with joy as she worked up a sweat weeding the garden. The honey and jasmine scent of her skin nothing but a captivating memory for months.

So, with her hair blowing in the wind and her voice lilting so sweetly in his ears.. when she extended that temptingly beautiful hand in his direction..

Fuck Rhys. Fuck the Cauldron. Fuck. It. All.

He would not, could not, walk away from her. Not again.

Elain… Elain.

Shadows coiled dense around his shoulders, their tone a haunting whisper in his ears.

Elain.

A low groan. Another beat of his head on the door.

Lovely Elain. They sulked defeatedly.

Before drawing a bath to wash away his sins, he’d had to relieve himself from the shameful strain of his cock not once but twice before being able to think straight. Whatever ‘thinking straight’ meant for him at this point. It seemed he was rarely able to keep his mind focused these days.

He sank down into the water — cold and unforgiving. Further and further, until he held his breath just beneath the surface. Just for some godsdamned peace and quiet. An attempt to snuff out the battlefield in his mind.

˖ ࣪ . ˚ ˖ ࣪ . ˚ .

“Morning, Az.” Nesta’s voice greeted him from the dining table without looking up from her novel, licking a finger to turn the page. As if she hadn’t cornered him just hours earlier.

“You look like shit.” Cassian pointed his fork in Az's direction, speaking through the eggs he’d crammed into his mouth.

He leveled him with a punishing glare. One that warned, don’t fucking ask.

But his brother being his brother, goaded him. “Rough night?"

“I actually slept quite well for a change.”

The valkyrie barked out a laugh. The shadowsinger stiffened.

“What’s so funny, Nes?” Cassian quirked a befuddled brow.

Her face remained neutral, but the amusement was apparent in her eyes as they slid to meet Azriel’s. “...My book.”

Just then, a breakfast plate appeared in his usual spot at the table. Piled high with eggs and meat that Cass had begun to eye, scraping at the last of his own meal. Az pulled out his chair, offering Nesta a shallow nod in thanks.

His secret to tell. Never hers.

[bunningchaos]

Runaway

I finallllyyy, got this done- story thingy for KVAU on the sideline, so far got the first introduction chapter up

↼↼{Nil} - {Next}⇀⇀

Original Nightmare/Dream belongs to jokublog, on Tumblr!

Summary - Having nowhere else to return to, and forced to be on the run. Away from the hands of whom he once addressed as 'Brother'. Nightmare travels from one universe to another, in an attempt to remain undetected. Until he comes across tormented souls that screams for help. Unable to look the other way, takes them under his wings.. not without facing some issues.

Link to the AO3 for the chapter

And because I can, here's the drawing without the text

Anyways

✕-✕

Being on the run constantly, never having even the smallest amount of time to take a breather. His legs were beginning to ache with every heavy steps forward, one after another weighing him down more and more. The echoing footsteps accompanied by a noise similar to that of a wet cloth being dragged across a kitchen's counter, the accursed tendrils that drips with black goo. Staining the path he takes, it reeks heavily of negativity. That damned corruption that won't leave his body - every since THAT day, spurting out from his back yet can't even maintain a proper form. No matter how hard he tries to keep it hidden, or to control it to do something, anything. Nothing worked. The least he could muster was lifting up the tip of the extra appendage just to do a tiny wave, if it could even be counted as one. Given how useless it's proven to be so far.

Hah.

To hell with that. No, damn every single thing!

This forsaken body of his, riddled with corruption and adding onto the fact he have a rather weak physique from the get-go.

The desperate need to slow down when he knows for a fact, that danger is lurking right behind him. Yet he couldn't push forward for longer than his limits could allow. Resulting in close-calls where he could practically feel the presence of whom is hunting him down right next to him, staying as silent as possible and even curling in on himself where he hid. Praying desperately that he'd remain undetected. To not be found, dragged back to the hell he once called 'home'.

Why can't his very own body, listen to himself? Why must it get exhausted so easily, to crave for food and water. It wasn't this bad in the past, he could go for days on end without giving into mortal needs such as those. When he was with his brother..

 

...Right, his brother. His other half, the only sole person he had in his entire life. Aside from those residing in the village near the majestic 'Tree Of Feelings', sure they were the probably nicest bunch of people he's ever met in his entire life!- correction, his entire childhood. He still preferred Dream at the end of the day, his beloved precious twin. Whom were always the one closest to him, and vice versa. They were usually together- or so he recalls, no matter what they've always been by each others' side. Through thick and thin, not once have he allowed anyone else into his SOUL, to understand him as deeply, it was all limited to strictly Dream. Perhaps he didn't connect with others as much? Whatever, it wasn't an issue, it never was. Though it's strange, he never actually got the chance to see Dream within the village. But, at the end of the day, when they both retreat out of the lively town and back underneath the tree. Nightmare always beams at the sight of his lovely brother, the sunshine adored by all including Nightmare

This very sunshine, Dream, returned the same adoration towards the moon that didn't shine as brilliantly. Words weren't necessary, Nightmare could literally feel the adoration his brother held for him and that was enough.

 

So, the day that incident occurred? To simply say his whole view on the definition 'trust' was broken, shattered into pieces, were an underestimation. Every fiber of his body hurt from inside out, the overwhelming, nauseating scene induced the urge to throw up.  What hurts the most wasn't the dreaded condition everyone fell under, nor the sickening laughter that rang and echoed within his mind.

It was the absolute realization of betrayal from his twin, no less. Why? Why did he have to do what he did?

Everything was fine.

Life was going okay.

No one was unhappy.

 

No one...

 

...

 

Was Dream ever happy?

 

Was it all a delusion?

 

Did Nightmare do something wrong?

Had he blind himself to the truth?

 

What have he not seen that led to Dream having to take such drastic actions?

 

Even now, he could still remember the way Dream cried- golden tears streaming down the delicate ivory bone. Positivity burning brightly and engulfing the surrounding with nothing but scorching warmth, comforting but deadly. The way he smiled, through the burning pain. As if he didn't hold a single ounce of regret for his decision, that twisted joy. It was horrendous, terrifying. It scarred him mentally.

 

"Ugh--" Wincing, his head throbbed. That was the furthest extent he could remember, everything else was a blur. Vague recollection of him holding onto five darkened apples within his arms were the only other thing he's capable of pulling up from the muddled, fuzzy mess.

 

How long has it been since his last rest? Surely now should be alright to relax, even for just a few minutes. Right? Singular violet eyelight glancing around, scanning the surrounding to ensure there wasn't anyone nearby. Specifically more aware about even the slightest bit of positivity. As that'd usually be a huge indicator that a certain someone were nearby, prompting a hurried, poor attempt to hide.

However, coming to the conclusion that he was safely alone. He could finally ease the tension within his body, though that made him all the more aware of the temperature. One simple breeze sent shivers down his entire body.

 

It's cold, so cold.

..Dream

 

Brother.

 

It's so lonely.

 

"..I don't want to be alone...-" A sob broke out from his gritted teeth, purple droplets rolling down his cheekbones- ones that fell from the left socket, mixed in with the corruption that oozed from the top of his skull, nearly covering that entire upper-side of his face except for a small bit that grant him the tiniest remainder of vision on that specific socket.

Alas, this serves as another way to bring attention to his very skull, the same socket itself was melting. Perhaps an additional aftereffect induced from the consumption of the very fruits that he was tasked to protect with his life. 

Going against his sworn duty for which his birth were created for, having to bear with the overwhelming negativity that flooded every fiber of his body- one bite after another into the apple, Letting the magic surge within the pathetically fragile body he possesses.

Agonizing, the entire time feeling like he's being ripped apart limb by limb. One bone after another, alongside experiencing the lowest drop in temperature that even a monster wouldn't be able to handle.

No ordinary living being would, one can even compare it to being thrown straight within space, locked within containers filled with nothing but ice-cold water where the chill gets drastically worse. At points nearly coughing out the bits of fruits that he took, having to forcibly coax his body into swallowing it all- to consistently encourage himself.

'This is for your own good',

'You're doing great.',

'One more apple, just the last one'

and.. 'The pain will be over soon'.

All of those, being lies, pure deception to lull himself into the final digestion of all five apples he snatched from the tree. His own mother- creator, who gave him and his brother life. Moments before fleeing from the latter that did the exact same thing he had done, the only reason he pulled the same thing off was the terrifying reality regarding the apples' safety.

No doubt, Dream is seeking for it all back, ultimately having turned majority of the once evenly-split amount of fruits that the almighty tree beared, into absolute positivity. Ridding negativity to a extreme, a drastic low where even Nightmare struggled to function for a few.. weeks? Months? He lost track of time really, or was it years?

 

Everything, regardless of where he stepped foot in- was hot, calescent. For the first few.. months, or so he assumes. Positivity raging like a hellfire that burnt everything in sight, affecting even those that remained blissfully unaware of the changes. Similar to that of a tsunami that comes full-force and slowly subside, things gradually calmed down.

At the same time, negativity began arising from the pit that it was shoved down into. That's not to say Nightmare is pleased nor agree with the horrific acts and scenes that he witnesses when attempting to stay within one of those few universes at first to recope and recharge but, interfering wasn't in his range of capability during then. Having to learn how to drown out the surrounding noises, pretend he's hard of hearing and sight.

Only taking his leave when he's able to recover enough strength to carry on for a few days. Even just an hour's worth of negativity, which weren't much, have the potential to keep him going for days if he manages his reserve well. That is.

...At times not even managing to get that much, the least were five minutes at max. Courtesy of Dream showing up.

 

Although he now knew the physical and mental torment that Dream had to endure, one thing he couldn't remotely grasp was. The other's change in behavior, his entire attitude and mindset seeming to have morphed into someone new entirely. To the point that even Nightmare couldn't identify who the opposing guardian were, if not for the sheer positivity he emanated and the familiarity of his soul.

Their souls, intertwined in such a way that there’s an invisible connection which granted them the capability to speak telepathically, similar to that of soulmates, rather, bondmates would be much easier to explain. By no means were they in a contract or pledged any vow to one another, those were never necessary. They're two halves of the same coin afterall. Understanding each other pretty well. with or without words.

But that was the exact same thing that Nightmare despised. Loathing it so much as it allowed Dream to constantly attempt talking to him through their bond. Coaxing him to return, with words sweet as honey. Otherwise, on a daily basis- locating him. Albeit Nightmare always made a run for it, irritatingly enough leading to a huge wastage of energy.

It took Nightmare plenty of effort, excruciating painful attempts- day after day, to sever their ties. Dwindling the connection to a minimum, ensuring it won't ever work the way it used to. Making it harder for him to be located now that the both of them couldn't properly sense each other anymore. It was always disadvantageous for himself from the beginning anyways, 

 

If Nightmare still remained practically the same mentally, even after taking not one, but five of the apples of his own side. Then what even happened to Dream? Does the amount consumed affect those mentally and emotionally too, if it exceeds a certain amount? Do, the brother- his sibling, whom he used to have.. still exist...?

Baseless assumptions these all were, he had no means of checking nor anyone to ask. The twins were unique, different from the rest of those that resided within the Multiverse. Whilst their appearance were that of a skeleton monster, their actual physical form- were far different, however it ceased to exist long ago, as they have blended in perfectly with the vessel they were put into.

Harming or injuring them critically may end up permanently killing them. No matter if they're superior, godly beings whom were literal embodiments of both, positivity and negativity respectively. Created with the sole purpose to maintain the multiverse's balance stability, and ensure that everyone remains free from any possible calamity doomed to befall if the balance is tipped off far too much onto one end.

 

The outcome is presumed to be a sight of pure tragedy. 

 

This current.. branch-off from a universe's timeline, was neutral. Nearly completely empty if he had to roughly gauge the amount of souls that were present. Which were harder than expected, granted, because of his lack in energy and the fact that those living beings didn't have enough strong emotions of either sides for him to properly make a clear estimation of.

 

Grasping onto the front of his shirt, the apple-shaped soul within his ribcage throbbed. Pulsing against the delicate bones that encaged it, confined deep in the frail body.

 

Where even were the few residents that existed here? Surely there'd have already been one or two in sight, yet he had not managed to come across even one. Feeding into his loneliness, he desperately wanted to see a trace of soul yet also not at the same time. No one would want him, of all people around. That and his absolute lack of trust and faith in others were other issues to top off.

 

Even so, Nightmare craved some companionship. Anyone, someone—

 

He was never the type to take isolation well, clinging desperately onto what little bit of attention was given to him. Usually provided by his dearest twin, which was no longer an option, leaving him all alone, devoid of physical contact or any form of socializing—out of fear, paranoid that the one he talks to might be in cohorts with Dream… No. No, that isn't his brother anymore, not anymore. No longer is the bright, beautiful sunshine that lights up his day here.

He, it—whatever he became, is a shell of his former being. Now overtaken by this filthy, disgusting, horrible entity that enraptures anyone and everyone he comes across. Luring them in with the sweetest of words, into a false sense of security. Stripping them of their free will and identity, bound to an inescapable lifetime of servitude to the S A V I O R.

This was painful.

“Starlight!” A soft and warm voice called out, accompanied by quick footsteps. The young guardian turning around to face the direction of the noise, only to be met with a blur of yellow and white. Startling him, unable to react at all as a pair of arms wrapped itself around his shoulders and pulled him straight into an embrace..

“S-Sunshine!--- Sheesh, be careful!” Grumbling under his breath, and leaning back slightly to cast a sharp, disapproving glare up at his twin. The brilliant ray of sunshine that beamed with sheer joy and excitement, didn’t even flinch nor react to the stare.

“I can’t help it, can you really blame me, Nighty? It’s been houurrsssss!” Whining, Dream tightened his grip over the other. Pulling him even closer, the coldness from Nightmare blending perfectly with Dream’s warmth. Lulling the temperature into a comfortable level for both of them

How dramatic. Rolling his violet eyelights, he reached up and gently caressed the other’s strangely-soft cheekbone. Earning a content, happy noise from him- which turned to a startled yelp once Nightmare abruptly pinched and tugged at the cheek. All the while, grinning mischievously

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t even that long, I’d reckon it to be around… uh-.. around…—” Voice trailing off, it’s only now that realization dawned on him that he did indeed lost track of time, the sun was already beginning to set. Huh? What did he even do the entire time before coming back to the tree?

“See! This is exactly what I mean, you don’t even remember how long it’s been since we were last split up from this morning!” Huffing, the bright guardian’s warm golden eyelights fixated itself on the opposing guardian’s chilling violet ones. Like two jigsaw puzzle pieces, each had traces of each other’s colour within it, that only shows upon the close proximity and emotional connection they shared- a mutual agreement from their bond.

A dazzling purple swirl making it’s way within Dream’s eyes, blending and mixing until it formed a symbol similar to a star within the middle. Topped off with a thin line on the inner edge. Whereas Nightmare, were the same except with a mesmerizing yellow moon.

“At this point I’m beginning to question if you prefer spending time with others over me! Given how you keep forgetting about me during your time in the village” Dream whined. Much like a child throwing a fit, though to be expected granted their age. Tilting his head away from the pinch, then leaning forward to rest their foreheads against each other.

“You know for a fact that’s not true. I’d pick you over everyone else, anytime.” Expression softening, Nightmare slowly reached his arms around Dream’s torso. Now returning the embrace, it’s soothing..

“...I know, sorry. I can’t- I just can’t help it.” Closing both sockets, Dream’s voice came out in a whisper. Tone shaky out of slight.. Fear. That one emotion being so dauntingly obvious to Nightmare, the negative feeling catching his attention immediately. Though before he could even address it, his attention drifted.

“Nighty?”

“Yeah?”

“----”

The sudden jerk of his body shifting forward as if he’s about to fall, shocked Nightmare out of his thoughts. Returning back to reality as he hurried backwards. Eyelight shrinking to a singular pinprick the moment his vision registered where exactly he was heading. It’s the edge of the cliff, had he been one second late to realize what’s going on. It’d spell his doom, plunging deep into the darkness underneath the snowy forest where- even he couldn’t see what lies below. The distance being too far down for him to properly gauge but, one thing for certain?

Falling was a high chance of death.

Horrifying.

Yet- selfish as it were, part of his mind were saying otherwise. Ridiculing him for reacting in a panic, that death would’ve been a much better choice. Far better than dragging out this pathetic life of his.

Truth be told? He didn’t disagree with those impulsive, irrationalities creeping in from every dark corners of his mind that he tries- time, and time again, to push aside. There haven’t been proper reasons for him to persist in continuing afterall.

He no longer have a home to return to, his brother is now.. Whatever he is, a forsaken damned monstrosity that takes on the hollow shell of his beloved, precious sibling.. Said entity constantly hunting him down, for the sole purpose of dragging him back to where he supposedly belongs- other than that, the extended reasons? Nightmare didn’t know, why, why do THAT thing consistently search for him? Having naught but assumptions and wild guesses to lead him by.

That being, the magic in his possession, brought forth by the apples he consumed. All of which were perfectly infused within his soul entirely by now. The last bits of negativity that ensures the multiverse don’t fall into the ruins of sheer, blinding positivity.

Having heard the disgusting coo’s directed at him as he ran, that overbearingly sweet voice which he once loved.

“My dearest Starlight!~ Come back, you can’t run forever!” Ugh, yuck.

Much like a prey that falls into a spiderweb, stuck to the sticky strings that weighs down heavily. Preventing any form of escape. These train of adverse thoughts were detrimental to declining his mental state.

“...Why must I keep trying..?-”

It’s tiring.

Dropping down to his knees, the tendrils on his back slowly curled around himself like a blanket. Not serving any purpose other than small amount of comfort, the frigid wind blowing past him. Coldness nipping at his bones through the fabrics of his clothes. As the day passes, his desire to be held– to be close with someone, cradled within their arms comfortably- increasingly got unbearable. Truly, desperately sought for even the faintest shred of hope yet were far too afraid to reach out for any.

“Why do I even bother?”

Not once have he ever felt safe, danger lurks everywhere. What might seem safe, could turn out to be the complete opposite.

He knew that from experience.

Closing his eyes and allowing darkness to consume the blurry vision he has, Nightmare could feel his mind gradually blanking out. Essentially halting any form of thoughts that tried to emerge, the despair invoked from the hopeless situation he’s been thrown into- slowly showing itself from how much of a toll it took on his near-unstable head. The weight of it all pressed down heavily, rendering everything meaningless.

One debilitating day after another, having zero purpose in life than to keep moving forward, run, scamper like an escapee..

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Perhaps, a long rest would be okay. A nice, lengthy nap- to escape from the burdens of reality.

An eternal.. Slumber.

Or so, that would have been his thoughts. If not for a sudden influx of negativity filling his senses. It was the first time in such a long period that he felt something this intensely. Every fiber of his being invaded by the surge in magic. Unexpected but not unwelcomed, his soul pulsing quicker, and quicker, greedily drawing in the negativity to sustain itself- the sensation was overwhelming, a heady mix of power and confusion. Causing him to reel back from the sheer dizziness, unaccustomed to being this ‘full’. A huge contrast to the empty hunger he had grown used to.

Help

Who was it?

Godithurtspleasemakeitstop

Who even are you?

Someoneanyonepleasehelpme

The fuzzy voice rang within his skull, instinctively holding both hands over the sides of his head in an attempt to ‘block out’ the noises. Proving to be plenty useless as that did nothing to lessen the invading sound that echoed from seemingly nowhere.

Whoever, or whatever, in this level of distress- had called out to him. Specifically him, strange.. Far beyond that, to the point it’s eerily unsettling.. Why? This has never happened before, so why? Why now, of all times when he was so close to giving up entirely? The timing was uncanny, almost as if the universe had conspired to keep him hanging on by a thread. Force something into his life which he wanted so dearly, right at the moment when he nearly let go. On the verge of embracing darkness.

Shouldn’t this desperate cry for help be heard by Dream instead, the very guardian beloved and adored by all. The literal beacon of light that shines down and grace the surrounding that he steps on. Yet, right now, the plea wasn’t directed to Dream. It was him, compelling Nightmare to respond. For the despondent cries, called out to him. So loud, too.. loud.

..Swallowing back a gulp of air, despite not needing to breathe. Wait..

If.. just maybe, if he can’t help himself out of this endless hell that forces him to be on the run daily. Maybe… just potentially, could he instead help this one desperate soul?

That abrupt idea was far-fetched and seemed almost stupid. Especially considering how badly he was struggling, how could he even fathom the concept of saving someone else- to possibly pull them out of the darkness, be their.. moon, within the darkened sky. Light up a new path, to provide them with hope, or a reason to keep going. Turn their life around.

At least, before the impulsive ideals gets deeply rooted within his mind, before he gave in and committed to the final decision of ending it all. Potentially, this one attempted act of compassion could allow him the slim opportunity to finally feel useful, helpful even if for just a brief moment. Just this one time.

This might be worth it, right? Though he doesn’t have any actual expectations, however, something within the back of his mind was screaming at him not to ignore the plea for help– that he’d deeply regret it if he turns his back on this very rare chance, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime situation. Or, ironically enough, once in a blue moon.

While Nightmare weren’t the greatest at assisting someone out of a dark place, as proven by his own predicament. Nor can he claim to be a bright and wonderful as his twin, but, surely he’s capable of at least.. Lending just one person a hand. It’s only ONE person. There likely wouldn’t be a second chance like this granted.

At the same time, selfish as it were. He hoped, prayed internally that this time. Perhaps, he could have a lasting companion. No matter the duration, he’s recovered enough to muster some ounce of magic to utilize to his advantage afterall. That all aside? It was unfair, really. Dream, he had others by his side. Not only that, but a selective few that were closer to him than most others. So.. if THAT thing masquerading as his brother. The guardian of positivity, could gather a group of his own. Why can’t Nightmare?

Why can’t he do the same? To have one, or two- if lucky enough, assuming the ones he come across that cries for help.. Is.. trustworthy. Unlikely, that’s for certain. Those that were this far tainted to the point that they’re able to fill him to the brim, definitely have issues. A extreme and severe issue, does it matter? Perhaps, he’ll be careful. That’s for sure.

There won’t be a second time where he lets down his guard. 

Nonetheless, practically being offered a dish, laid out perfectly on a table which he could either, accept or refuse.

He’d be a fool to not take it.

Without needing to reconsider twice, and also pushed on by the consistent urges repeating in the back of his mind. He steeled himself for the possibilities of failing, knowing full well it wasn’t going to be a guaranteed success.

When was the last time Nightmare actually communicated with someone anyways? Hell if he know. Although, with his capability to sense one’s emotions and his keen observation. Combining it both and playing things safely, calculating every single possibilities, could have a tiny glimpse of hope for the situation to turn out favorably.

Greedy as it is, the flame that died out, reignited itself again. If he couldn’t save his own twin, he can try harder to save this person. Whoever they are, by any means possible.

No matter the cost.

There’s nothing for Nightmare to lose at the end of the day.

Getting up onto his feet, with his hands pushing against the ground whilst the tendrils shifted to it’s original position behind his back. Nightmare raised a hand out infront of him to conjure a purple vortex of magic, swirling luminously and casting a radiant shine within the surrounding. Surprising even himself, not expecting to have that much energy, Nor enough magic within his reserve to pull off something like that, portals were usually so much smaller and less.. Flashy. This is gonna be an issue he has to deal with later on, the fluctuation in negativity had given him a huge boost that he wasn’t accustomed to.

Unexpected, but greatly appreciated. At the same time, concerningly shuddersome. Mildly dreading the hell that he’d witness, especially one capable of providing this heavy amount of negativity. None of the other horrific sights engraved within his mind supplied this much.

“Alright, you can do this. Night.” Quietly encouraging himself, he took a step forward and entered the gateway he manifested. It fading and closing with a burst of magic after he’s fully through to the other side.

[lucabyte]

ppl saying they look to my comics for inspiration and pointers on how to format things is WILDDDD to me (and delightful don't get me wrong!! i am overjoyed) because like. none of you are privvy to the absolute WAHHH I DONT WANNNAAA bitchfits i was *CONSISTANTLY* throwing every time i forced myself to make a comic before i got into isat. like no joke. i considered comics such a fucking difficult medium they always drained my drawing energy so hard because they always felt like they took sooo long and had so many moving parts and were so much harder than storyboards (WHICH I ALREADY STRUGGLED WITH) because you had to account for panel shape and speech bubbles and-- like you get it. but genuinely for real. the sheer amount that i complained whenever i clawed my way through drawing a comic (which thus! was not very fucking much!!) compounded by the fact that i *genuinely have trouble reading comics*. as in, i really struggle to parse the flow of contiguous movement or action between panels (possibly connected to the fact ive got mad aphantasia?) of even really well done best-of-the-best professional comics...

... BUT. basically. what im trying to get at is. if you wanna learn to draw comics, evidently you super can?! I genuinely *didnt* draw comics before drawing isat fanart! I have no idea what it was about ISAT fanart that made it finally click for me? (I think it was... not having to think about colour? Removing a step from the process really helped. Plus, it being fanwork meant I could just start en-medias-res and not have to think about setup... Trying to cram too much explanation and setup into my oc stuff was always a big hurdle too...)

I find them fast to do now! and damn if i dont value speed in art (<- impatient little fucker). its still going slowly on my oc comics.. mostly due to the colour again, i think. but it's not extremely, ecruciatingly difficult anymore. is what im saying. and im genuinely baffled by it every time i put pen to page. its fucked up. did you guys know that practice makes things easier? . fucking perverted if you ask me.

As for looking at other people's things for inspiration. if you want to know where I was looking when I was piecing together the first couple fancomics I did for ISAT i want to specifically point at . well besides everything rebecca sugar has ever done (for hands and facial expressions *especially*), the main person i really dug into the work of was Leo Fox (Website link). I feel like i wanna point people to the source of a lot of the inspiration for my more off-kilter panel choices so you all can get the full experience rather than through my regurgitated mimesis. I'm now at the point where i can wing panel layout so i wasn't in there for longgg but. everyone go add it to your knowledge banks as for SUBJECT MATTER aka why i am i so deranged. those are squarely the 2019 postcanon homestuck golden era bleeding through my CLENCHED BITTEN DOWN JAW. A BULL TERRIER ON YOUR BRACHIAL ARTERY. namely that @/floralmarsupial and @/tomatograter's works (no i am not tagging them . im shy) are things i go back to frequently and floralmarsupials pure black/white inktober comics were *especially* an inspiration. if you've been following me a few months you may remember me reblogging a bunch of their stuff from 2019~2021 for seemingly no reason. this was why. The narratively divorced reality of jade strider & Liminal Space are big in my mind here. I balk to call myself anywhere near as good as these but these are what i'm aiming for, tonally and quality-ways with it. also detective pony but ive mentioned that already and thats farrrr too inside baseball for this post.

BUT YEAH TL;DR: I DIDNT DRAW LIKE ANY COMICS UNTIL UHHHH LIKE, WHAT, LIKE 8 MONTHS AGO? JESUS. ANYWAY. THIS MEANS YOU 🫵🫵🫵 CAN DO IT TOO. BELIEVE IN YOURSELF. DATTEBAYO!!!!

[courtingchaos]

There’s a Devil Inside of Me and You

Kas!Eddie Munson x Vampire!Fem Reader

Pt.2 of At the End of the World

Warnings: Blood drinking, animal death, human death

A/N: Ope, more of this I suppose. I have no idea what I’m doing with this sometimes the urge just strikes, you know? Also just call me the comma queen because god damn there’s too many in this.

18+ NSFW No Minors

He speaks nonsense sometimes when his eyes go black. Deep pools of obsidian that seem to take his sense away.

“Why me?” You ask him when he crawls back into the boathouse you two hide away in.

“That hand that sneaks through the cracks, it found you.” He brings a new thing each time. A deer he found wandering too close to the lakes edge, a cooler of blood left unattended at the gym-turned-first aid center. “It pointed you out in the dark.” His own spindly finger points at you, tip of an elongated nail grazing your cheek. “It showed me where to find you.”

“Then why you?”

Tonight he clutches a den of foxes in his hands, necks broken, Eddie’s sympathy bleeding through into this creature. He shifts those dark eyes to the rotting slats of wood under you, a deep frown forming between his brows.

“He played at being the hero.” The frown turns melancholic before his face hardens into a grimace and he shakes a limp body at you. “He thought he could win.”

“Against what?”

“The vines. The rot. The bats.”

The sound is always around you now, the beating of thick wings. A muffled din during the night and silent when the sun hits its peak and you fall asleep in the shade of a corner of this dilapidated shack. He huddles you into the depths first, makes sure to tuck your legs up before he pulls the blue tarp and heavy boat cover over the two of you so you’re encased in darkness and the smell of lake water.

That first morning he’d been there, all Eddie all brown eyes all sense, and he’d told you what the sun would do to you. He’d darted his hand out into a pillar of dusty light and had started burning. You understood and said nothing while he arranged the corner for two bodies now, remaining silent when he pulled you along with him.

You were hungry like you hadn’t been before, hungry for his wrist and something wet. He knew what you needed but it was too early. A promise for dusk, a whispered ‘thank you’ and his head found a home on your shoulder, dirty hair pressed to your cheek where you watched him drift off. A moment of panic however when he stilled completely and no more breath came from him.

“Eddie?” You shake his shoulder and he doesn’t react. A firmer shake and his head lolls off it’s perch. You can see a sliver of his eyes now and they sit milky white and dead. A deep feeling of dread, something you should have been feeling a few hours ago settles in your stomach next to your hunger. It twists in the endless growling ache and you can feel it pull at your eyelids. This isn’t sleep though, not in the sense you know it. Whatever this feeling is weighs you down abruptly and it creeps through your body, stilling your movements as it makes it’s way up your spine until it hits your head and the darkness takes you.

Today it’s this other being that brings you dinner. Foxes to keep you for a few days, enough to get those brown eyes back in his skull. You find yourself missing Eddie when he’s gone, replaced by this other who can’t tell you the why of it all. You’ve yet to become accustom to feeding in this new way but instinct takes over and stamps down any apprehension. Long teeth pierce cooling flesh and you have to suck deep to draw the blood to the surface. A fresh kill but still dead, something you have to work hard for to stay alive.

He watches you with unblinking black that burns holes in you. Waits for you to finish your meal before he steals back a limp body from the mound in front of you. It’s day and night with him before and after feedings. This other watches you with rapt fascination and suddenly Eddie is there with fidgeting fingers and darting eyes, small grin forming a dimple on his cheek.

“Who is that?” The blood sticks in your throat, a thick coating that makes a click when you swallow around it.

“Who?” Eddie asks, lips smeared in gore.

“When you’re not here.” You gesture at your own eyes. “When your eyes are different.”

He hums and twists one of his rings around his knuckle. “No I’m…I’m here.”

“What is it then? Am I also gonna start speaking in riddles?”

“No.” He almost laughs at that. “No I-I’m special unfortunately.”

“Special?” You finally unfold from the corner and stand eye level with him, warmth creeping from your belly out towards your limbs.

“I got bit by something else.” He rakes a hand through his matted hair and it catches. He pulls until it rips free and he hisses from the pain and there you are, reaching out a hand to help soothe. There’s a draw to his pain deep in your head, an urge to fix. It propels you forward a few steps and you reach your hand towards his flinching face.

“You need to bathe.” Your fingers rub against his scalp and he shoots you a dubious look from the corner of his eye.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re disgusting.” Your gaze drops to his shirt, front stained with blood and dirt, and then down at yourself where the sight isn’t much better. “We both are.”

He pushes at your hand on his head and you stop trying to comfort him. He’s not meeting your eyes again, instead looking past you and out the window that looks into the woods. Overgrown ivy blankets the brush and walkway to the caved in house up the way. “And where do you suggest we clean up?”

There’s no soap and it’s lake water but it’s better than nothing. The wakes sway you gently where you sit waist deep and scrub your shirt under the water in a vain attempt to get the blood out. Eddie had averted his eyes when you’d started stripping out of your clothes, a move that you’d laughed at.

“You bit my neck and fed me your blood, I don’t think this matters.”

“Still.” He mutters before pulling his shirt over his head and kicking off his shoes.

Now though he floats a few feet in front of you in just his underwear, his clothes draped over your knee to soak in the muddy water.

“Next time you go out, find us a bar of soap or something.”

“Next on my list next to ‘nourishment’.”

“I’m tired of smelling like a lake.”

“It’s a been a week, how do you think I feel?”

A week. Already? Seven days of monstrous appetite and a deadly aversion to the sun.

“A week?”

“Yeah. They’ve got your posters up at the gym.” You hear his head turn in the water and his arms splash when he sits up, the water sitting just under his chin when he crouches. “I haven’t seen your parents though.” Not cold or uncaring but pragmatic.

You can’t go home. They won’t find you.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You stare through the murky water lit dimly by a crescent moon, down to your legs sitting in the silt. “I’m not mad.”

“You should be. I was.”

When Eddie stares it doesn’t burn like the glossy black does. His warm brown is almost a comfort where it flicks over you from head to hands still absentmindedly scrubbing your shirt. In another life from a week ago this could have been a normal thing to do, going for a dip in the lake. Maybe not during October but the cold doesn’t reach you the same now. You can feel it but it doesn’t get into your muscles and lock you up in a shiver.

“It’s not like you took anything of value.”

Eddie stills the back and forth swaying of his hands under the surface. “What?”

“It’s just like…it’s not a big deal. You said you needed help and I can help like this, I guess. It’s whatever.”

Silence between you two, just the splashing of water against the lake shore and the heavy sense of spilled feelings. He creeps close enough that he ends up on all fours just over your legs. “It’s not whatever, I took your life from you.”

“It wasn’t much of a life Eddie.”

“You can’t see your family again. You can’t go home.”

“I know.” You stop scrubbing and clutch your stained work shirt in your fists. His face is crumpled in pained confusion as he tries to get you to understand.

“I can’t fix this.” There’s layers to those words. “There’s no end to this, whatever this is.” He gestures between the two of you. “I-I can’t make you human again.” Panic lays under his tongue and he inches forward. “When this is all over? All the cracks and-and the monsters and him? I don’t know what happens. What’s supposed to happen.”

Eddie stands abruptly, bringing streams of water up with him that pull on his boxers. The thin fabric clings to his hips and you drop your gaze quickly. “I don’t-I didn’t think-fuck!” The echo of his voice bounces off the trees when he yells and buries his face in his hands. His distress worries at your brain again, a tether pulled taught between you and you wonder if he’d feel a reaction to your more volatile emotions. Before you can stop him he makes for the shore and leaves you staring into the glittering water.

Another week goes by and Eddie spends most of it in that other state. He makes sure you’re fed but he doesn’t stick around, just disappears until sunrise when he tucks you both in for the morning.

“Eddie?” You whisper at him under the tarp. He isn’t pressed close today and that bond you’ve felt growing in the amorphous background of your mind feels stretched. It’s a new kind of ache, one that rivals the way your stomach burns between feedings, and you pull yourself over. Shoulder to shoulder, forehead almost pressed to his cheek you ask. “What is it that found me?”

“The black hand.” He doesn’t open his eyes, breathing even and slow.

“What is it?”

“A monster.”

“Is that what destroyed Hawkins?”

“No.” He shakes his head, crown of his curls rolling against the wall. “That was Henry.”

“Henry? A man did this?”

“He’s not a man anymore. He’s vines and a hive mind.” The tarp crinkles against his hair when he shifts his head, rolling it toward you so your forehead does press into his face. “When a portal opens up I can show you where he hides.”

“A portal?”

“It’s…he can explain later.” A dismissal but he doesn’t move away from you. He drops his knees so your bodies touch from ankles to faces and you feel that tug again deep in your guts.

“You need to eat.” You whisper into the collar of his shirt, stiffened by lake water and grime half scrubbed away. “You look terrible.” His cheekbone is too prominent against you and his hands boney when he pulled your wrist to bring you under the makeshift blankets. You just need to help, you want to help. It’s why he found you right? A purpose finally for your small, now inhuman, life.

Your teeth bite through the thin skin of your wrist easily and the smell of blood floods your senses. Eddie’s eyes fly open, the all black dull when he finds your wrist held in front of him. “Eat.”

“It’s not the same.” He swallows thick and doesn’t tear his eyes away even as he tries to brush you off again.

“But it’s something.” Behind your words you feel a ripple in your intention. An urging for him to take. Not anger but intense persuasion. You picture him reaching out for you like you had to him in that alleyway. A clear snapshot and it’s gone, that small reverb in your voice diminished when that tether to your spine has an answering pull.

His palm is cold when he pulls at your wrist to bring it to his dry lips but you don’t flinch. The red pumps sluggishly from the wound against his mouth and you get to watch him take that first tentative lick. Something human in the crease of his brows, a small noise from the back of his throat. His lips wrap around to suck at the wound and you’re matching his whine. The pull of blood makes your eyes flutter, the grip of his fingers on your elbow send a shiver through you that has nothing to do with the cold. Eddie knows when to stop so you don’t worry but the slow turn to sluggishness makes you droop into him.

He breaks with a soft gasp, tongue rough against the thin skin of your wrist. “Thank you.” He runs a thumb over the bite you inflicted and it stings before it starts to close slowly. You can’t make out anything in the dark now but you can picture those brown eyes flicking between your own just like his thumb that soothes over your wrist. Your sleep catches up to you faster than normal and you can feel yourself fading when Eddie shifts you so he can bury his face under your jaw.

“We’ll go out at dusk okay?” His lips brush against your neck. “I’ll show you how to hunt, in case anything happens.” His hand snakes into your limp one while you hang on to the threads of your consciousness. He isn’t warm or cold against you, he isn’t anything really, but the tension in your belly loosens when you feel him relax into you and you can see the faint line of the sunrise along the far edge of the tarp.

Eddie expects to wake to your rising pulse against his lips as you stir back to life next to him. He’d fallen asleep pressed into you to help quell the growing gulf of pain he’d created by finding you. No food and distance from you proved to be a hindrance so it felt safer to hide in the dark behind beetle shell eyes, right until you’d forced him to eat. It felt different from the other commanding voice in his head, this one softer, no invisible hand on his neck to force his head down into blood. You gave him an offering that he could take willingly. One he could have gently.

So when he comes to with his face in the splintering floorboards he’s confused before he jolts up and has to fight his way out of the tangle of tarp. The sun leaves only a strip of gold and pink on the horizon and the trees are nothing but a black silhouette against the sky.

“Fuck.” He snaps his gaze around and up into the sagging roof. He peers into corners and finally out the window to try to find a scrap of you. Vines are trampled into a path and he’s outside before he notices the stench of copper on the breeze. Instinct draws his nose up to find the source and he knows exactly where he’ll find you.

He’s into the brush before the last bit of sunset disappears, hoping that this isn’t anyone he might have known previously. Any one of his friends who could be injured out here in the wild overgrowth about to meet his newest creation. In a deep part of his mind he laughs at the flicker of a thought that Vecna was his last played villain and here he is, accidentally siccing his companion on the unsuspecting.

There’s no sounds of struggle, just hushed words whispered harshly at each other as he makes his way through broken brush.

“There’s a curfew.”

“I know! I fucking know okay?!”

“Just get up and we can make it back to the car okay?”

“Just get up?! Just get up?!”

The voices have no body yet but a strong scent, one bleeding while the other exudes distress. The sour tang of fear sits in the back of Eddie’s throat and mingles with his own. He’d meant to show you how to hunt the animals out here, not the stray humans that still wandered too close to the lake. Past their boundaries set by intruding agents and into the woods to find whatever beasts had broken through the earth and wrecked havoc on their town.

There’s a scuff of metal and wood hitting the ground, a rifle dropped by one man to help the other stand, and a ruffling of leaves that only Eddie can hear. You stand a few feet from him, stock still except for your fingers that seem to dance along invisible strings. A flexing of your fists against your new instinct to lunge.

His appetite isn’t as new as yours, the voraciousness of it suppressed while yours beats against your teeth. He can see how you stand poised to pounce, muscles tense under your dirty shirt. He doesn’t need to call your name for you to realize he’s there, but he’s startled all the same when you look over your shoulder at him, eyes wild and deep. The black of your pupils bleeds through the color, veins of ink that creep across into the bloodshot whites of your eyes and Eddie realizes his mistake with the tilt of your head. You’d held yourself back until he’d made himself known, predator competition for a prize kill.

From his perspective your movements slow when you turn back to lunge at the two men and one of them finally notices you. He jumps when you come into focus and he jolts again when Eddie comes into view just as quick, hot on your heels to stop a slaughter. He grabs the back of your shirt and a snarl rips out of your chest, alerting the humans to your monstrousness. They freeze together, crouched on the ground surrounded by drops of blood. Even with his bearings Eddie finds it hard to focus on you, his own need clawing up his throat when the metal in the air seems to coat his mouth. He breaths heavy, panting as his ignored hunger makes its presence known and his grip on you loosens. These are not his friends, not family or even familiar in a sense.

These men have been staring for too long.

They’ll recognize his face soon, maybe even yours too.

They’ll run into town and ruin his plan, telling everyone the freak was alive and well with the newest missing girl in town.

“Eddie…” You moan and his attention breaks from the cowering men to you and the want laced in your voice. “Eddie, I’m hungry.”

You don’t need his permission, not now anyways, but you wait until he nods softly. Two screams erupt off the surrounding trees and one cuts off short into a wet gurgling when your teeth find purchase at the base of their neck. It’s a slow drag to the forest floor, your mouth anchored to this man’s juglar. His knees hit the hard ground while your fingers dig into his shoulders and you let yourself fall on top of him, his hands weakly beating at your arms. The other man only whimpers now while he tries in vain to drag himself away, gouged calf leaving a bleeding line behind him.

Eddie doesn’t find delight in this hunt. He hasn’t enjoyed any human life he’s taken thus far but he won’t lie to himself. This blood is sweeter, thicker and richer than the surrounding fauna. It fills his belly longer and sharpens his senses to fine points, sharp enough to hear the vines creeping beneath the town.

“I want you to know this isn’t personal.” Eddie says lowly and the man in front of him bables through the tears. “I can’t let you go though, not when there’s so much to finish.” He descends before this human can let out another yell, Eddie’s eyes rolling back in his skull when blood floods his mouth. He remembers that first kill and quietly wishes he’d waited so he could watch your reaction. Hot copper fills him and he works quickly, too scared of getting lost in the sensation of feeding.

You’ve stilled in his periphery, stuck staring down at the unmoving man between your knees. Your shirt is bloodied again and so soon after you’d scrubbed it ‘clean’.

“Hey.” Blood drips from his lips back down onto its previous vessel and he wipes his hand over his mouth messily. “It’s a lot, I know but you’ll see-” He really hasn’t learned as much as he thought. Your head turns to him and his sympathetic words but your eyes hold no color. Black pools stare back at him and you hiss under your breath at his outstretched hand. It’s his turn to jerk away from you but you follow him back, your victim already forgotten in the leaves.

Eddie can’t find his footing before you reach him in your crawling, crowding him down next to his own murder. He isn’t afraid but he has no idea what you’ll do. He’d really thought there wouldn’t be an other you if there was no alternate dimension, not bats or vines present but again he’s proven wrong.

You hover over him and your eyes dance across his mouth where the blood is smeared. The sudden dip of your head makes him flinch and your tongue pointing into a fine v draws his attention. You run the tip of it along the corner of his lip, through the left over blood and over his skin. A deep hum rattles through you and Eddie has to fight his baser instincts. Your tongue roves again along his cupids bow and when his eyelids flutter to close he puts a stop to it. Holds up his arm to push you back slowly but you don’t take kindly to the denial. A snap of your jaws and you’re clamped to his forearm, fangs buried deep in the muscles.

The tussle only lasts a few moments but you get him good, his arm peppered in fanged kisses and the fingers of his other hand bloody. He wedges them in your mouth at the joint of your jaw and pries you open to shake his arm loose.

“Listen to me!” Deep layers bid you to still. He doesn’t like using it with you like your a meal to be lured but his arm aches. You still, breathing heavy, mouth red with his and the strangers blood. There’s a shift in your eyes and before he can blink the black seeps away leaving your bright eyes shining and wet in the waning light.

A sharp gasp when you realize what you’ve done to his arm. He keeps you pushed away but your hands grazing over the punctures make him less tense. Worry furrows your brow and the tether anchoring you two draws closer.

“Oh…Eddie I’m sorry. I didn’t-I couldn’t see you.” Your eyes screw shut while your hands grip around your bites.

“It’s okay.” He tries to placate you, long arms pulling out of your grip to draw you down for a hug. It only feels strange for a moment before he feels you shudder and his grip tightens.

“He’s everywhere.” You sob into his chest, hands wound up in his shirt. “I can hear him winding through my skull. I hear their wings all night, the screams.”

His hands rest on your back while you try to climb into his neck. A low whine escapes from your chest and he shushes you. He won’t think about the consequences of this yet, not when you’re dealing with this intrusion. The two bodies next you can wait, the new questions he has can too. Under his back the vines inch along and the beating of wings on their search for him vibrate the earth.

[wellthebardsdead]

*some emerald grove devil au with a spicy mama??*

———

Falûne: *gliding along just above the group, lazily doing loops and twirling in the updraft beside the risen road* Those gnolls must’ve been the ones that attacked the Tieflings the day they came to the grove, they tore right through those people- hm? *looks ahead seeing blood and charred earth leading towards the river*

Gale: At least we found Lihalas lute. I’m sure Alfira will be happy to see it safe, at least she can hold the memory of her teacher within the music she plays.

Astarion: that or remind her of her gruesome slaughter- where’d our friend go?

Wyll: *looks up to see Falûne’s tail disappear over the trees* … *runs off after him and freezes in shock seeing him approaching Karlach* LÛ GET BACK!

Falûne: *looks back at him* She’s hurt! *steps forward* hey it’s alright, I’m a friend, are you okay? *backs up as the tiefling stands tall and flames billow off of her*

Karlach: Me? *grins* never better! *eyes up his wings and devil like characteristics* A shame for you then devil! *readies her axe*

Wyll: DONT YOU DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM FIEND!! *grabs Falûne and yanks him back to safety*

Karlach: well I’ll be damned, the blade of frontiers cavorting with devils.

Wyll: He’s a devil only by blood, but his heart is pure. Unlike you. *draws his blade* Your end is- ARGHHH!

Karlach: *recoils as her tadpole connects to his and Lûnes, her eyes seeing through the blue devils and finding only kindness and love, nature all around him and the blessing of a unicorn* wh-what was that?!

Falûne: *seeing the hells up close for the first time through her eyes. The horror, the suffering, the bloodshed and the roaring heat of hellfire… and feeling an odd sense of comfort from all of it* I- *focuses harder and sees a faceless figure, then karlach herself being dragged through to the hell’s themselves, sold into eternal servitude against her will* it was, the tadpole- you… You’re not a devil… you’re a tiefling! You were sold to Zariel!

Karlach: Well fuck me, you, you’re really a kind devil then… there’s a first for everything it seems.

Wyll: No! You can’t believe a word she says she’s lying to you!

Falûne: I know a lie when I hear it, Wyll… you should know how hard it is to lie to a devil… she’s telling the truth.

Wyll: No! She served Zariel! She-

Falûne: Against her will, *walks in between them and gently places his hand on his blade, lowering it* listen to reason now… please…

Wyll: Shit… Shit!! *sighs* you’re right… I’ve been mislead then… you really are no devil.

Karlach: whew… thank the gods, I was worried I’d have to take your head off.

Wyll: hm, you would have died in the attempt.

Falûne: someone set you on Karlachs tail, and I’d like to know who.

Karlach: aye, me as well, go on then wyll. You’re among friends.

Wyll: in a few days time you’ll find out, and no doubt I will pay my penance then.

Falûne: penance?… should I be worried?

Wyll: you’re not in any danger. From what I’ve witnessed, you’re a far more powerful devil than her anyway.

Karlach: another devil? How many have you been dealing with??

Falûne: well there’s me, my uncle and now this mysterious third but- *recoils a little as the flames suddenly grow hotter and Karlach grones holding her chest* Sh-shit you’re still hurt! Let me-

Karlach: no no, that’s all healed- ughhh my engines what’s aching.

Falûne: engine?…

Karlach: my engine. *smacks her chest* zariel stole my heart and replaced it with this contraption… now she’s sent her yappy little attack dogs after me to get it back it seems. So called paladins of tyr, they cornered me outside the tollhouse.

Falûne: hm, let’s send them back to her with a warning then.

Karlach: Fuck yes!

*30 minutes later*

Falûne: *holding Anders by his throat* please work- Karlach, come here.

Karlach: *engine boiling over with rage as she stalks closer, axe ready to kill* Tell Zariel I said h- *blinks as Falûne’s hand reaches into her chest, his skin feeling cool like ice, claws gently smoothing over the blistering infernal metal as he grasps hold of it* huh?? What are you?

Falûne: Sending the warning. *lets go of Anders throat and plunges his other fist into his rib cage, grabbing hold of his heart and with a small spark of fiendish magic, switching it with the engine* EVERYONE BACK UP! *grabs karlach and pushes her back as Anders suddenly begins to blister and boil from the inside out, clawing at his skin and screaming in agony as the engine cooks him alive before exploding all across the room in a smouldering pile of entrails*

Karlach: *staring at it in shock, the engine nestled amongst it* you- *gasps as the engine and pile of flesh crumbles into ash, no doubt respawning in hell back at zariels feet where the deal was made* you just?… *feels her chest, a heartbeat soft and gentle thrumming away* I have, a heart again?…

Falûne: you do… h-heh I can’t believe I actually did it! I-

Karlach: *pulls him into a hug and holds him tight* th-thank you. Thank you so much I- *sniffles as she starts to cry* I’m going to live!

Falûne: yeah… *smiles and hugs her back* …You really need a bath you stink of hellfire.

*that evening*

Mizora: Karlach meets the criteria by having no heart.

Falûne: Karlach has a heart though, look.

Mizora: what no she- *shuts up seeing no vents left on her skin, no flaming glow, no flames, nothing* what?…

“Which means your contract with Wyll is now Null and Void and my contract will now take its place.”

Mizora: *face dropping in a moment of panic as she spins around to see Raphael sauntering over* A-Ah, l-lord Raphael, I had no clue you were involved with my little pet, surely we can resolve this amicably.

Raphael: we might, if my nephew wishes so. *looks over at lûne*

Falûne: *shakes his head*

Raphael: *nods and snaps his fingers suddenly binding Mizora in infernal chains* Karlach, you may have the honours.

Karlach: *grabs her axe* Fuck yes!! *runs at Mizora*

Raphael: *summons wylls new contract* just sign and you’ll have everything you need from me.

Wyll: the only requirement is keeping lûne safe?

Raphael: believe it or not I do actually care about my nephews wellbeing. The contract is just a security to be certain he’s in safe hands.

Wyll: huh, what happens if I fail?

Raphael: do you want to find out?

Wyll: nope. *signs it quickly and jumps as a rapier of infernal metal appears in his belt*

Raphael: wonderful. Now then- *suddenly plucks out wylls eye and seemingly crushes it in his palm before reshaping it with runes to communicate with him directly* I’ll be keeping an eye on things through you now. Do not disappoint me Mr Ravenguard. *tosses it at his face making it land perfectly back in his eye socket*

Wyll: ah-

[onyx-archer]

A Headcanon About Dragons & Lizardfolk With "Hair"

A common thing you see in a lot of fantasy is different kinds of lizards. This, and of itself, isn't a big deal, as in real life, it's not super hard to see lizards if you know where they live. But fantasy has basically 2 special exceptions.

Dragons & "Lizardfolk"

Dragons are fairly self evident if you know anything about fantasy. The most common portrayals of them are they are basically giant "fuck you lizards" that are borderline dinosaurs, but have more mobility, intelligence, generally have wings (or can otherwise fly), and can typically breath fire or something. Different cultures have different views of dragons, but generally, we agree that they are usually large lizards. I also tend to lump Wyrms into this category, as they function a lot like dragons in most depictions of the species.

Lizardfolk, in this case, refers to what I can describe as generally humanoid lizards. This can range from something like an Elder Scrolls Argonian, to a DnD Dragonborn or Lizardfolk (which is where I get the name from). They are typically bipedal, can communicate with other fantasy races either in a "common" language, or can be interpreted based on their race's/species' native tongues. My favorite amongst these, for the record, are Kobolds (yes, I know what qualifies as a Kobold can vary depending on which sources you use, but I like this brand of Kobolds specifically, so bite me).

Regardless of which fantasy flavor of Lizard you are talking about, there is one thing that a lot of people tend to agree on: Lizards don't have Hair.

It's a scientific fact that Lizards themselves do not have the capability to produce what we'd call "hair," as that seems to be a trait that is exclusive to mammals, as "hair" is just, functionally, another way to say "fur" for all intents and purposes. This extends all the way back to the ancient lizards we call Dinosaurs.

But you see, the mention of Dinosaurs actually raises an interesting point, and it has to do with some of the other evolutionary ancestors of the Dinosaurs: Birds.

As I'm sure you'd know if you managed to get through... idk, whatever year of schooling was when you did first year of biology class, Birds are evolutionary descendants of some dinosaurs. At some point along the way, some dinosaurs hair their scales evolve into strange, soft, fluffier things called "feathers," likely as a form of heat retention for the dinosaurs that were warm blooded, or ended up warm blooded somehow. Evolution is fucking wild, man. In relatively recent years, I'm sure some of you have seen those mockups of dinosaurs that had feathers on them, and it was those that, recently, got me thinking.

You see, for some project I'm working on as a learning exercise, I decided to make a Kobold character, but I bumped up against the question of how to justify hair. This is because some people on like, FurAffinity and what not will draw Kobolds (and other lizardfolk) with full heads of hair, but keep them lizardlike otherwise. While, sure, Kobolds are often associated with Dragons, and Dragons are magical lizards so growing hair isn't out of the question... but it made me wonder how easily some people would swallow the concept of a Kobold having hair, since there's more art (that I've seen anyway) where Kobolds are drawn without hair, rather than with it.

But damn it, I want to have the character in question have hair! It just doesn't sit right with me for her to not have any hair, but I wanted to have some kind of explanation for all of those people that would argue against it.

And then it hit me: feathers!

Birds themselves often have special feathers that are very hairlike called Filoplumes. These feathers are incredibly hair-like at a glance because of how fine they are. They're soft too, like hair. And as we established, at some point in the evolutionary cycle of some warm blooded dinos, scales turned into feathers, so...

This is when I had my metaphorical brain blast like I was Jimmy fucking Neutron. While I'm sure I'm not the first person to think this up, I thought it was a creative solution to the question of "how would a lizard person have hair?" Of course, I initially didn't think of it as filoplume feathers, and instead thought of more conventional feathers, making the "hairstyles" looking more ruffled and the like, which would be a little awkward to plan out, and the "hair" would likely not be very long. Heck, even with Filoplumes as my answer, I doubt it'd be super long, but I'm admittedly not an expert.

I'm not suggesting that it's a 1 to 1 comparison, because feathers do, in tern, have striking differences compared to hair (namely, when it comes to clipping/trimming them, because of molting cycles when it comes to irl birds). However, I do think the principle of some kind of evolutionary component that has scales become hairlike feathers makes some kind of sense.

So what I'm basically headcanoning is that both dragons and lizardfolk "hair" is, in actuality, basically a evolutionary form of feather, akin to a filoplume. This could lead to fun ideas, like exotic bird type "hair colors" via feather patterns, for both top of the head or even beards. It could even be headcanoned that traditional DnD-esc Kobolds don't have "hair" by choice, something they deal with to avoid unnecessary harm from their environments, or simply because they don't get the right nutrients. Hell, maybe your BBEG that has Kobolds in their army fucking shaves their head like it's the real world military? The possibilities are... well, not endless, but there's at least more than there is outside of this headcanon, right? And more options are, generally, pretty good to have.

What do y'all think though? You think I'm talking out of my ass? Do you think it's a fun idea, or fucking stupid? Would love to hear what you think! Personally, I just think it's a fun bit of flavor to explain why some lizardfolk and dragons are depicted with hair, despite that not being possible in lizards according to reality.

[fictionplumis]

Okay okay okay I got another one for Sorcery!

Flanker ends up with the Crown of Kings.

Bear with me. We all know he would dash that thing on the ground and destroy it after it was used on him to make him nearly kill the person he loves, but here's the thing.

The Analander hands it to him with such a trusting, earnest look and tells him, "You won't take away power from the people and you can fix this world. I know you can." And even though almost every part of him balks at the idea of ruling, Flanker has experienced how broken the world is, how none that are currently in power will do anything to fix it with or without the crown, and it makes a weird kind of sense for someone so reluctant for power to be the one holding it, the one wielding it.

And it's so hard to say no to the Analanader when they look at him like he personally hung the stars that sorcerers draw their power from.

So he takes it.

He tries not to use it. It's a cursed thing, and Flanker doesn't wish to control the people around him, least of all the Analander, but it's not an easy thing to do. It's not the temptation of it, it's not that he feels he needs to, it's that in his memories of the Archmage using it on him, the crown had been nowhere in the room. The Analander swears it had been on the Archmage's head, they just couldn't see it because the Archmage hadn't wanted them to, but it's hard for him not to question it.

Especially when he wears it and doesn't need to consciously give an order. Those that don't know about the crown well enough to fight the influence, or who trust him the most, seem to react to his subconscious will even before he says anything. Those things unsettle him the most, especially when it happens with the Analander. One stray thought of desire or pang of want while he has the crown on and the Analander is in the room, and they're at his side, arms around him, pressing a kiss to his temple or what have you. Afterwards, with the crown well away from the both of them, they swear they don't mind, that they want those things too, but it still doesn't sit right with him.

As far as actually being a ruler goes, Flanker hates attention, so you know he's not going to be going out there and greeting the people and announcing himself as the new monarch of Mampang or whatever. He's a shadowy ruler, and there's just as many rumors about him being dead as there were about the Archmage. But--

Things start changing. Slowly, at first.

Despite his discomfort with magic and his lack of knowledge, the changes start with the College of Sorcerers. The Analander suggests that he release Valiquesh from the book she was trapped in and together with Aliizi (who was wary of him at first but started coming around, either unconsciously because of the crown or because she genuinely realized he wasn't going to purposely control her, it's impossible to say), they reestablish the College.

And the second Flanker finds out an acquaintance of the Analander's is locked up, he goes and frees Jann. The minimite, despite being an irritating headache, is something of a relief. The crown's power doesn't work while he's around and Flanker can always trust that the little pest will say exactly what he wants whether Flanker likes it or not.

It's even more reassuring that Jann first spent most of his time riding around on the Analander's shoulder since his wings were clipped, but the Analander eventually got frustrated at having their magic cut off and resolved to solve the problem, which came one day they were at the market and found a man selling a caged crow. They used their magic to speak to the bird, offering it job to be paid in food, safety, and some of its freedom back.

Flanker was sure the damn bird was going to eventually get irritated with the annoying minimite and eat it, but couldn't have been more wrong. More often than not, Jann ended up sleeping nested with the bird. The Analander, amused beyond belief at Flanker's annoyance, explained that the bird liked being talked to, but crucially, couldn't actually understand a word Jann said. Plus, Jann liked to give the bird scritches. The minimite treated the crow like one would a prized and beloved family horse.

It took a few months for the real work to actually start. The College was operating again, but without students, it was useless. And in order for there to be students, the gates of Mampang needed to be open to travelers. And in order for that to happen, people needed to be able to cross the Baklands safely. Flanker kept trying to put off actually exerting his influence on the people but Valiquesh was impatient and once the Analander and Jann pointed out how often he was using the crown to silence Valiquesh and keep her from calling him a coward, he finally decided to actually act.

Flanker's not a monarch, though. He knows nothing about actually ruling, so his first order was to establish a council and gather the other rulers of the land to talk to them.

He did not fret about the meeting in the weeks leading up to it.

He did not.

(He paced a lot. The Analander laughed kindly at his nervousness and assured him it would be fine. That didn't stop his pacing.)

They met in the study, which had been cleared of all the Archmage's things and was mostly used by Valiquesh and the Analander, because Flanker himself preferred their private quarters, which had been Jann's old jail cell, cleared and reconstructed with a fireplace, a cozy sleeping area, and a small sitting arrangement right in front of the fire. But for this, Flanker met them in the study, all but Jann in attendance, Aliizi watching the proceedings in invisibility, and Flanker dressed in his assassin's garb as usual, resolutely showing no signs of his nervousness.

That grew easier the more he asked each ruler how they made their kingdom prosperous and how they would have used the crown to benefit their people. With each answer, he grew increasingly irritated, finally understanding just why the Analander gave the crown to him instead of destroying it or giving it back to his king.

The only one of them that had wanted to implement any real change was Vik, who was distasteful at best, but at least had been put into power by the people of Khare and who was (somewhat) giving that power back to the people. But his change was only for Khare, while the other rulers just wanted their kingdoms to stay the same while abandoning Khakabad and the Baklands to suffer in poverty, ruin, and curses.

That was the moment Flanker started using the crown seriously.

The king of Analand was ordered to open his gates to Khakabad and send out sorcerers, farmers, and supplies to the neighboring towns. Khakabad would be part of his kingdom now, and he was to share Analand's prosperity and teach the people of Khakabad how to prosper themselves. They were now his responsibility.

Vik was ordered to stop enslaving people and forcing them into being his own private army of werewolves. Most of the damage was already done, but he was told to take the armor off the werewolves he did have, explain to them that they were now werewolves, and instead ask them to become part of his guard. It was now a job, like anything else was, and those that wanted to work for him would be paid well and for the rest of their lives, even after they could no longer work, considering they would forever live with the consequences of lycantropy. They were to have shifts with overseers to remove their armor at the end of the shifts so they could go home and have lives. Barracks were to be built for those that weren't on shift or those that no longer worked so they had somewhere safe to go during a full moon where they couldn't hurt anyone.

The other rulers were ordered to send contractors and sorcerers into the Baklands to dismantle the Archmage's beacons. This was something that Flanker put a lot of thought into outside the meetings, talking with the Analander, Aliizi, Valiquesh, and Jann about it. After lengthy, heavy discussions, they all agreed that it wasn't fair to keep those ghost towns alive, the people in them never knowing that they had died ages ago, never able to leave, their lives forever looping. It was best to leave the past in the past, and instead look towards what the Baklands could become in the future.

One night, years later, once all of Flanker's plans were well on their way to being completed and the gates to Mampang were open again, the College of Sorcerers seeing their first year of recruits under Valiquesh's teachings, Flanker sat on the distastefully extravagant chaise with the Analander's head in his lap while they dozed, turning the crown in his hand over and over again while staring at the fire.

Truly, for such a powerful item, it was a poorly made thing. Threadbare, the jewels chipped, the metal thin and bones crooked.

The Analander roused, half-asleep, meeting Flanker's gaze sleepily and it was as if he knew. A subtle nod of understanding was all Flanker needed to throw the cursed crown into the fire, the skullcap catching immediately and the fire warping the metal. By morning, all that would be left would be a puddle of metal and blacked gems.

"You always destroy it," the Analander murmurs, turning their face back into Flanker's stomach with a yawn, their eyes closing. "Sometimes right away, sometimes later, when you feel like the work is done. The land always fairs better when it's later."

"You are not awake," Flanker replies, because the words don't make sense. He ignores the twist of discomfort, resolves himself to ask the Analander about it later, and instead bullies them up so he could take them to bed, shedding clothes along the way.

It would be days later when he manages to corner the Analander in the library that he asks about it and gets the full story.

I'm cursed.

When I die, I return to Mampang on the day we defeated the Archmage. I can show you the very alley I return to.

I do it all over again. I've done it hundreds of times. I've gotten good at it, too. Once I figured out how to break you out of the Archmage's control, I've never once had to fight you again.

No, you didn't kill me that first time. But killing you killed me. I couldn't do it without you, and I was relieved when I died to the Archmage and had another chance to save you. I have every time since, and even though things change in the strangest ways, every time I tell you that I love you, your blade finds its home in the Archmage instead of my throat. You're strong enough to break out of the compulsion every single time.

You don't need to worry, Flanker. I know how to lift the curse. There's a tower in the College of Sorcery where I can undo it. I choose not to, not yet. At first I just wanted to see what decisions would be best for us and people of this land.

I've given the crown to my king, and things weren't bad. He kept it for two more years and passed it on to the next kingdom. Analand prospered and everyone knew who I was, who we were. But you hated the attention and I grew tired of it. We started a life for ourselves in the Shamutanti hills, an hour outside of Khare. You continued work for your guild after growing restless, I studied my magic, and we were happy. But in the quiet moments both of us agreed that it felt like something was missing. It was disquieting to both of us that nothing had really changed. It was the same every time I gave my king the crown, the only thing that differed was how I died. Sometimes one of us would get sick, or you wouldn't come back from Khare and I would have to track down someone from your guild to find out you had died, or I would go into town for supplies and get caught off guard by bandits...

I thought if I destroyed the crown, something different would happen, so I tried that a handful of times, but it was almost exactly the same. Analand would be in turmoil for a year or so before settling down, and we would live happily if unsettled over how little change our sacrifices and hardship actually made.

Then I thought to release Valiquesh. She made significant process back when she was the archmage. Every time she would destroy the crown, we would go on to live our lives in peace. She would establish the College again and work on revitalizing the land that the other monarchs left to ruin. It was better.

Once, I thought to stay in Mampang with her to study under her. But when I did that, you left, feeling you had no place in that world, and I lasted a couple years before I fell on my sword to see you again. Valiquesh was an unrelenting teacher and I learned a lot, but the progress I could have continued making wasn't worth being without joy. Being without you.

I thought to keep the crown for awhile, thinking I could make more change if I took matters into my own hand. You were always there with me, my general. But every time I did that, Aliizi would leave and Jann would want nothing to do with me. But you were there, and I made progress.

Sort of.

I never handled it with as much grace as you, Flanker. No, don't give me that look, I'm serious! After living so many lives and dying so many times, I was frustrated, and angry, and I always let it get the best of me. More and more each time. I never managed to make as much progress as I wanted, so each time I would take more and more control, until I realized I was becoming no better than the Archmage.

Thank you for saying that, but you never thought so in those lives, if I put the crown away. You were the one that told me I was like him, and you were right to say so in those lives. They still haunt me.

Whenever I gave you the crown and you kept it, everyone was better for it. You never relish the power, you never cling to it, and you push for the other monarchs to make the changes that they never would have made on their own. And once you feel you've done enough, you destroy the crown.

Now I don't bother to try other options. I've found the best one, and I repeat this life because I'm never ready to leave you. I want to keep doing this over and over, with you.

Flanker has no perception of these other lives that the Analander lived with him, has no idea how many the Analander went through, whether it was still that same life for them as it was for Flanker when, years later as they're sitting on the roof of the garret, watching the sun set, the Analander takes his hand and kisses the back of it, murmuring, "I think I'm ready for this to be our last time."

Even though it was always Flanker's "last time" he can't help but feel his heart squeeze with sorrow but he tightens his hand on the Analander's and nods in understanding.

"We both deserve to rest, my dear Analander."

[munsoninthedark86]

The Perfect Girl(First Kiss Headcanons)

warnings: fluff mostly. kissing. Contains Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson

Eddie is so fucking shy about kissing you. He’s loved you his whole damn life.

Eddie

It makes his heart race, his head spin and he feels like he might get sick…or maybe not. He doesn’t even know how to feel when your lips are on his.

He wants more. So much more. He’ll press himself up against you and just kiss you until you’re both breathless.

You were coming to pick up Dustin. Your mom and his mom had been friends for so long. You kind of took this kid under your wing. And when Dustin’s mom had asked you to start picking him up after Hellfire club, you took it without hesitation. Not only were you a good influence to Dustin and doing his mom a favor, but you were also able to see your favorite Dungeon Master without having to make excuses.

Week after week, you’d see Eddie. Your crush on him has never faded ever. He was still that cute guy you fell for in middle school. What you didn’t realize was how much Eddie loved you. And these small moments with him every week made it so much better.

He knew that the next time, he’d have to find some more time with you. So when you came to pick up Dustin, he had begged the kid to give him some more time with you.

“So I have to hang out in the scary hallway so you can suck tongues with her?” Dustin asks, clearly annoyed. But he still agrees to it.

Now that you’re in the same room as Eddie, he can barely hold back. Those beautiful eyes draw you in.

“You know, if you wanted some alone time with me, you only had to ask.”

You don’t give him a moment to reply. You only press a kiss to his lips. Your fingers tangle in his wild mane of hair. He’s in heaven.

“Didn’t think you’d wanna give me the time of day…”

It’s not his first time kissing, of course. But it feels like it is all over again when it’s you.

Steve

He’s left breathless, blushing and wanting so much more. But he won’t dare make another move.

Steve is sweet with his kisses. He doesn’t take things too fast and he knows the right moves to keep you swooning.

You felt your face heat up. You’ve had a crush on Steve for so long. You don’t know what initially drew you in, considering he hasn’t always been this kind. But now that you’ve seen so deep into his soul, you know that he is a good guy.

You just didn’t think you’d be with him at this stupid party. Everyone is dancing and having fun, and you’re trying to nurse a broken heart. Being dumped was hard, but having your good friend with you here was just the right thing. Maybe you’d work up the courage to finally tell Steve how you felt.

In a small corner of the room, you and Steve chat in private. He’s been so damn sweet to you all night.

“You know, I’m glad you came tonight. It would have been a bummer if you would have stayed home.”

You shyly smile at him before taking a sip of your drink. “You’re right. It would have been a bummer.”

Steve takes a step forward, “When am I wrong?” He leans in, his hand cupping your cheek. Then he kisses you, so softly but so lovingly.

“I hope I wasn’t wrong to do that.” But you just kiss him again and again.

[pastel-rights]

Both!

ooo... that's a good one... my sonas and my friends... it got kind of long and rambley, sorry.

well... among my own sonas... I think I'd have to say Rabuka for several reasons!

I'm a really big fan of his animalistic features (his wings and his tail! he technically has animal ears too but I didn't feel like drawing it.) and the black, white, and red color scheme with the yellow eyes. I have always been a big fan of characters with yellow eyes because it lends to an aura of mystery and divine origin,,, and because Rabuka is a demon who's got features based on a chimera, it works in his favour.!

Of course, there's also his lore and personality I like a lot too, as well as his interactions/relationships with other sonas.

See, Rabuka (which also means frilled shark in Japanese!) has a more. blunt and serious personality, he's very detached from those around him, so he doesn't have many close relationships. And because he's in technical hell, most of the relationships he has aren't deep or intimate either. Of course, this man is a little (extremely) out of pocket and it just adds to his charm I think.

He's a bartender and a gambler at heart, in the overworld at least. He appears at the casino that Pins' mafia boss sona runs, and he acts as her right-hand man. He almost softens up around Miss Vampire because he doesn't perceive her as a threat. He thinks she's kind of cute, to be honest.

In hell, he is the technical bodyguard of the princess. Miss Char... well, see. She isn't the sharpest knife in the shed. She does stupid things and gets herself into situations and it's up to him to save her. He thinks she's a dumbass, but she's his dumbass and he'll be damned if anything happens to her while he's there.

He wants to have a heart of stone. To be cold and uncaring and emotionless. And he is, for the most part, yes. But there's a tiny sliver of him that is *almost like human* that no amount of being a powerful demon in hell can really override.

Of course, there is his lore, which adds to his personality and relationships a lot.

Rabu wasn't always in hell, after all. He wasn't human, of course, but he wasn't always a demon either.

I think what I like most about Rabu is his duality. He isn't black and white, but rather all the different shades of grey in between. There's not one correct way to see the world, morality isn't just one or the other.

Everything is a spectrum. Rabu included.

And I think I just really vibe with that.

as for friends' sonas...

for starters, miss fashion designer is by far my favorite Pins' sona. I mean. Just look at her. She's gonna go jump the k-pop idol and her brother and do it in STYLE /j (and probably lose /lh)

I also just really enjoy the vibe and relationship she has with miss florist. they just have a really enjoyable dynamic together and I really love the way they mesh together! women <33

for klai, i kind of. really vibe with Zaiaku??? there's something about the other sister who tries so hard to fix everything that she falls apart. that I just really like. I also really do like their design! It's giving off like. elegant older sister vibes... I can trust her with my worries!!

i probably shouldn't but hey! saki's colorblind so there /j

and then for Sam. well.

White Devil.

I have a bias for puppet/doll aesthetics and they just. hit it so well....... I just. I also have a personal bias towards their design and color palette. Something about them is offputting but in a /pos way and I do think the eldritch horror doctor motif fits Sam perfectly???

And there's the matching Nerissa.

And the way they interact with one another and in the setting of the story is just. really nice. The way they assist one another and care so deeply.

There's something about two monsters learning to love each other that's really heartwarming for these two.

...

okay so you might be wondering if Tazai is my favorite Tae sona. to which.

uhm.

narratively speaking, yeah? I think the character development they go through and the struggles they've gone through have made them an overall favorite sona of all time for me, and the way they express love towards their girlfriend/future wife and the lengths and pain they're willing to go through is enough to make any stone cold bitch swoon but.

i have another favorite above them.

now i KNOW you are ALL RUSHING towards me with your fire and pitchforks /j because who the FUCK would I like more than TAZAI who I drew so FUCKING much to which.

hear me out hear me out

okay so like. hey hey wait no hear me OUt.

tatum is my favorite tae sona purely because of how. silly she actually is. she's just a fun sona to draw and she's a fun sona to shitpost with.

tatum isn't SUPPOSED to be taken seriously and that's. why I love her.

okay thanks for coming to my tedtalk please don't kill me over my choices of favoritism /j

[electrosair]

Hihii!!! This is my first time doing a matchup so hopefully everything is well ^^ I love your work btw <33

Let’s see— in my free time I like to draw, write, read— all that creative stuff. I also love just meditating and going about my day and appreciating everything even it’s something very minuscule!

I’m an ENFP 2w3! AND NO IM NOT ONE OF THOSE TOXIC WING 2S PLEASE I PROMISE I AM VERY NICE AND NOT AT ALL LANA DEL RAY MANIPULATOR I AM VERY LANA DEL REY HUGS AND KSISES AND DPUPPPIES

Honestly? I’m loud. I’m very honest but I always make sure to be nice about it. I value kindness and love a lot because I empathize with practically everyone around me— I flirt a lot AS A JOKE Plus im just very touchy in general like ill hold hands with anyone im walking with or hug people SUPERRRR tightly as like a greeting or just because i thought ‘damn this person is cool’!!!!!!!!! Also i can be really naive, especially socialy even though im an extrovert 😿 Basically social cues are 99.9% sure to miss me which is a big bummer :(

My favorite nation is DEFEINITLY SUMERU 😻😻😻😻 And I love Hydro & Anemo ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶ As for factssssss ⁉️⁉️⁉️ okok I LOVE CARTOONS LIKE OCTONAUTS OR MLP: FiM AND IM ACTUALLY SUPER SUPERBBOOK SMART EVEN THOUGH IM KINDA(very) OBNXIOUSSIO which usually surprises people from what ive seen— i kind of have this very quiet and smart and wise side to me but i dont show it to anyone because i like making people smile and i prefer being more flirty to make them laugh so thats why i keep that side of me a secret-/ OH MY FARTS I SOUND LIKE A ENNEAGRAM WING 2 🤯🤯🤯🤯 i am one haha

And my favorite little pookie munchkins areeeeeeee : SCARAMOUCHE ❕❕❕ ALBEDO CYNO VENTI HEIZOU AND TIGHNARI 😻

anyways tjis was my first ever matchup req aahaaaahahahaahaa GOOD LUCK WITH ME I LOVE YOUR WORK I REALLY DO PLEASE NEVER STOP BEING YOU ❕❕❕❕😻😻😻😻

this was hilarious to read, i even texted my bestie with a screenshot of some parts aldkasjdlask

Heizou!

He would be attracted to your fun personality and how hard you try to make the people around you laugh, Heizou has a very cheeky nature and because you're so naive you could be the center of several of his double entendre jokes only to watch you not catch them.

That you like to interact with people with a little flirting and enjoy physical contact would only make it easier for him. He would definitely love it every time you hold his hand while walking or get a little more clingy with him.

You'd get along just fine if we took away his silly jokes, which would be fun for him but not so much fun for you. Heizou would like spending time with you so much that he would only leave when he really had to work.

[originemesis]

@kugel-bitch xxx

She might be the only person this side of heaven who can manage to find his boisterous antics grounding. Lute closes her eyes for an ephemeral moment, drawing a very pointedly irate breath in through her scrunched nose before she releases it in a much more controlled stream through pinched lips. The hardness melts away from her pallid features and she opens her eyes again to meet with Adam's gaze. "With all due respect, sir, that is not even close to being the main issue we're facing!" Steepling her hands atop the edge of the desk, she inclines her body, ruffled wings folding neatly against the curve of her back. "This audacious bitch of a hellspawn has proven herself to be anything but the insipid doormat her father is. We cannot forget they have the means to raise a resistance when we return for the next extermination. The proof is laying headless in the morgue as we speak! We have to adjust our strategy accordingly."

Still perched on the edge of the desk, he looks as if he's listening to every word she's saying- or at least, all of what she's saying is going through a long tunnel and IN to the golden light in his head. As to whatever happens to the sentiments and raised concerns while they're in there is anyone's guess, including hers. The only indication of what that might be comes in the form of his milkshake's straw drifting ever closer to his face. Once it reaches the sharp snap of his teeth, he latches on and gives the sloppiest sounding slurp that side of heaven - a sound that might have been at home in hell with all those crack whores sucking dick for more crack, but was quite jarring up in heaven. Damn peanut butter- always getting stuck at the bottom.

Once he'd finished the valiant attempt at emptying the cup, he issued his rather dour lieutenant a wide grin. "Look at yoooou... being so on top of shit. Well, I mean- aside from the desk...but I got that base covered." He added with a short laugh and a stretch of his wings to knock whatever was left standing on the work station knocked asunder or on the floor. Granted, his mirth was soured shortly by the mention of a certain hell lord. The grin fell as hard as Lucifer had. "They're not gonna do shit-all. You think Lilith's little thottie-hottie is going to be able to pull herself out of the depression known as fucking around with one of US~? Not likely ~ that's why I brought it up. See...? I'm on top of shit too." He squeezed the empty cup to crush it in his talons before flinging it over the side of the desk with the rest of his mess.

"I mean, I was just gonna suggest that you adjust to better reflect your position under me, but ~ now you're piquing my interest." He waved the lingering concern over the body away with a flick of his wrist. "What's your hot take?"

[cilant-lis]

pf wotr thoughts (some vague spoilers)

"why am i so bad at this game, i'm usually good at strategy. WHERE ARE MY SPELLS- oh there's a spellbook i must use" (it took me 10 lvls to find the damn thing)

not enough lore info in the character creation. i know nothing about any of these countries. i wanna make my characters grounded in the world

the comabt is a bit (a lot) of a drag, even when speeding up animations, so i eventually switched to story mode

daeran is such a bitch, i love him so much. it's like he was made in a lab specifically to appeal to me. and his romance... oh boy

all of the characters are great, even those my kc didn't really get along with (though i am very biased towards my usual party: woljif, daeran, seelah, arueshalae and ember)

i checked the wiki and seelah is not romancable??? why can't i ever romance a knight lady ; - ; being a lesbian is hard

i'm enjoying the army management section way too much. outing myself as a homm player lmao

I HAVE A DRAGON and i would literally sell my soul for aivu to be safe and healthy. she's my Best Friend and my Specialest Girl.

zoiana is multiclass greenrager and druid, and it's a little annoying i only have two levels in druid because of alignment shift :/

alushinyrra was hell. i could not find my way around the city. i kept getting attacked around every corner, it lagged like crazy, and i never want to go back

hhhh i wish we were able to customise the commander's ascended appearance... zoiana's azata wings clash so much with their colour scheme. i think i'm gonna draw her with luna moth wings

"the lesbians have won :))" four acts later "the lesbians have lost :((" (in short, i gotta figure out how to keep irabeth alive so she can be with her wife and lesbians can still win in my 2nd playthrough)

areelu was such an interesting antagonist, and some of the plot twists and reveals were delicious (and worked perfectly to tie into my kc's backstory)

one more complaint: what in the fuck was wrong with nenio's quest. i almost dropped it, but i was too curious about her backstory so i was a nasty little gremlin and installed a cheat mod lmao

[vt-scribbles]

Y'know I know ask games are for people to, y'know, send in asks. But I don't see people often just. Fill it all out themselves. Fuck it I'll help out the shy people.

SO ASK GAME BELOW 'READMORE' LET'S GO

1. Art programs you have but don't use: MS Paint, Blender, I used to have WAY more like this one painting [like actual paint] program.

2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even): Left is easiest, Right is in the middle, and forward is the hardest of those three for me.

3. What ideas come from when you were little: I was fascinated by G/T from like. 3 years old. I blame Super Mario Land 2 LMAO

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw: Handheld, perspective, monsters/creatures, and massive scale

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself: Uhhh probably about 50/50? A lot of things I draw are spoilers, shitposts, and other study art I don't bother sharing.

6. Anything that might inspire you subconsciously (i.e. this horse wasn't supposed to look like the Last Unicorn but I see it): Not that I can think of? My art doesn't get analyzed super often. I think people think I study anime more than I do.

7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate: Charcoal, watercolors, sculpture, oil pastels, acrylic, copic markers

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in: Originally I was going to make an AMV with my two characters, Nonny and Felicia, to the song 'shut up and dance with me'. These two aren't active OCs anymore, and the project was WAY too ambitious for my skill level 9 years ago lmao.

9. What are your file name conventions: 1: Name of song I listened to on loop while drawing. 2: An inside joke. 3: Literal rep of what's on the canvas like 'Hema doodles Aug 2023'.

10. Favorite piece of clothing to draw: Body suits, capes, scarves

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what: TONS. My fave lyrical music, videogame soundtracks, sometimes just ambiance if I'm overwhelmed. Usually tho it's the same song on loop till I get the inspired piece out of my system.

12. Easiest part of body to draw: Eyes!

13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing: A lot of NSFW artists who I won't list here LMAO. I don't go to that school, but their art skills are top-notch.

14. Any favorite motifs: Mirrors, doppelgangers, leaving 1 eye absent for emotional effect, feathers/wings, falling, sinking into water, eyes, dark palettes with bright accents/light sources, glowing eyes, flowing hair, size difference/scale, fucked up version of self vs real version

15. *Where* do you draw (don't drop your ip address this just means do you doodle at a park or smth): Starbucks, home, parks if I'm feelin spicy, anywhere I take my tablet for the day.

16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing: A lot of my niche/kink stuff tends to get pretty dredge-y for me. I may be good at it, but it's not where my passion lies. That's in animation, fantasy, dramatic stuff, storytelling, etc.

17. Do you eat/drink when drawing? if so, what: Water or Snapple for the drink, milk if it's bedtime so I can settle down, and then usually the snacks are just whatever my lunch is for the day since we don't have a table.

18. An estimate of how much art supplies you've broken: Not many! Less than $100 I'd say. I'm very careful with my supplies, and I don't believe I've ever broken a tablet. The worst I've done was I busted 1 or 2 cheap tablet pens with stupidity.

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.): Definitely nature. Tree trunks and swirls therein, flowers, grass.

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy: Humans! Not that it's an 'everyone' thing, I just run in some furry circles where human artists are a rarity. Eyes, too. Some people find expressions rly hard.

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways: Uhhh man damn, I don't follow a lot of art styles that aren't something I took inspo from? But I guess Wolf Walkers is my biggest one.

22. What physical exercises do you do before drawing, if any: Sooometimes I stretch, but I don't do it nearly often enough.

23. Do you use different layer modes: Yep! My most common ones are Multiply, Glow Dodge, Add, Add Glow, Overlay, Pin Light, and Color.

24. Do your references include stock images: Absolutely! Reference is important.

25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by: Not much! Most of my inspirations are pretty clear-cut and strong. Avatar, SU, Disney, Dreamworks, FMA, some Warner Brothers' movies, etc.

26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended: God, so, the G/T gif of mine that makes the rounds a lot? The one where VT finds someone small and it's their POV and he helps them and puts them in his shirt pocket??? Most people were completely normal about that post. But then there's one chuckle-head who was calling it pocket-vore, and I wanted to scream. I even chastised them like 'hey uh, no. That's not what this is.' and they argued back with 'well it's up to the eye of the beholder more than your opinion.' and I was like 'UH NO. I MADE THIS. MY OPINION IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOUR WEIRD ONE???' I've also RAAARELY had people call my characters underaged when they're all well over 21, so those are always gross/wild LMAO.

27. Do you warm up before getting to the good stuff? If so, what is it you draw to warm up with: Sometimes! I usually do an anatomy study, brush stroke warm-ups, or just doodle something personal first.

28. Any art events you have participated in the past (like zines): I think Multi Animator Projects [MAPS] would count here! I was part of Starclan's Chosen, Change Your Mind [Brambleclaw], Levitating, Family of Me [fallenleaves], Goosebumps Warriors MAP, Pay No Mind MEP, LA Devotee [never finished], White Rabbit, and Fear Garden! Among others :>

29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically: Not much! Pretty much everything I love inspires me artistically. I guess some anime styles?

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated: Pretty much any of my animations. But I only feel that way cuz they take THE MOST dedication and work time. Also kiiiinda my writing? But a lot of people have trouble getting people to respond to literature, so.

[chiclet-go-boom]

The Legend of Dragoon

Got to talking to Meatball about the upcoming DLC for Elden Ring and got onto the topic of stupid hard mechanics and the worst part of the "git gud scrub" mentality that souls-like games are now baking right into their gameplay. Frame perfect this, snapshot that, ugh.

And I was immediately thrown back into my infancy when Legend of the Dragoon came out for Playstation and was one of the first console games I owned. it was, in a word, fantastic. It had a timing mechanism on it that you had to match in order to get a high powered attack off properly which was different for each of the character based on their weapon - and some of them were really pretty hard to hit perfectly, damn it.

It required precision and better yet, a sense of rhythm and I loved it so much I played it through to completion twice (for reference I have played a game to its final screen exactly four times in my entire life and LoTD was two of them.) This game is probably my one and only experience with actually needing to execute a mechanic properly in order to progress. It's baby first steps in comparison to any Souls game, I know, but for little-me, this was like a call from Heaven to ascend to fight angelic wars.

Cannot overstate how formative this was. I enjoyed it So Damned Much I even did baby's first fanart for it. Behold! Back before drawing was "content" and needed "engagement", little me was busy sticking her tongue out the side of her mouth and trying to figure out how dragon scales worked (never did figure that out) and how the fuck those wings attached to the armor.

This concludes today's Blast From The Past™. We now return you to your regularly scheduled content.

[knowlessman]

the continuing adventures of gamzee homestuck and friends, uh… continue! (bnha s5e6-e11)

"be careful, young deku, your next fight is with shinso -" me, completely ignoring the plot relevance with one for all and whatnot: HELLYEAH -- bakugo: "hurry up and master that quirk so we can fight again! I've no patience for weak pokemon" or something. point being, big gold/silver rival vibes. pointbeingfuckbakugo

(iida's turn next) still kinda wished he'd gone with Emergency Exit. I forget if he went with Recipro, or if that's just what he calls his moves and he went with Ingenium for the hero name -- iida: "I was third place at the sports festival!" 'XDDDD that bit with hatsume's still funny whenever I think about it

I have absolutely no idea who Tetsutetsu's teammates are but this is fascinating

"kaibara's rotation is a technique where -- (granted, that's only funny to me) -- why is he also spinning his feet, tho? he'd just drill into the ground doing that. I guess it gives him an option if he wants to change lateral direction in a hurry

so… iida's mufflers are… teeth? the adult ones push the baby mufflers out? idfk go figure

but yeah, mudman's kinda neat

I thought fire was sposed to, y'know, melt metal. Also I'm pretty sure sudden temperature changes fuck it right up regardless.

beats me what Ojiro's done different that repels all the mud, but I guess I'm glad he got something else going for him. heck, even hagukure unlocked that flashbang move of hers; Tailman seems like he'd have a hard time not falling behind.

kinda surprised the show didn't punish Mudman for running away from a losing battle tbh

'XD poor todoroki suddenly sucked up all the flames and turned em into some kinda Spirit Bomb, then got a clonk on the head for his trouble

iida: "rescue is my first priority!" EMERGENCY. EXIT.

"it was a huge mistake leaving iida for later" god. dammit. show. what was he sposed to do, grab his ankles so goddamn sonic the speed demon could rip his arms off? -- ohhh, mudman is the guy who looks like a Bleach hollow. huh.

pony or whatever horn girl's name is: "I'll go higher than he can reach and see what happens" I mean. shoji's arms have kinda looked a bit like wings to me from the start… I dunno what I wanna bet that he can flap them hard enough to get lift, but I dunno if I'd bet much against it either -- not to tell on myself too much, but this is a real "me" strategy. I always find myself in positions where my only move is to put off losing in the hopes that a better idea shows up. one rarely does. (granted, I'm mostly thinking about MtG, and I guess I've gotten a bit better, but "more time for thinking" is still my first priority in most situations) -- (timer buzzed, is a draw) Shishida: "in a real fight, running away and waiting for rescue is a reasonable option." make up your damn mind show, are you American or a filthy commie

pretty sure iida had plenty of space to veer to the side and avoid the falling thingy, just saying

hmm, we got dark souls helmet and some random dark-haired girl they're hyping up vs bakugo and headphone jack. are they gonna play this one out as well, even tho the only lead in it is bakugo?

bakugo continues to do bakugo things, ie be an abusive liability on purpose and probably not get punished for it -- "I've gotten stronger too! I've figured out that I can use people as stepping stones, and it works better than only seeing them as obstacles! next I'll advance to realizing they have feelings, and can therefore be used as tools!"

"with unexpected teamwork (read, any teamwork at all), bakugo's team wins!" -- the annoying thing is, he still consistently acts like (and says, often explicitly) he's the only person who matters. nothing about bakugo's attitude or actions feels reconcilable with a person who could strategize in ways that allow their teammates to do anything, or even account for their presence. hell, seeing bakugo show capacity to strategize at all still feels weird. we saw him hand out those grenades to his teammates - people he constantly refers to as extras, people whose names he refuses to use - as if he thought they were competent enough, or worthy enough, to use them. bakugo gets the benefits of a mindset he is clearly portrayed as not having. -- bakugo is an rpg character whose player is a powergamer. the player is rp'ing as an abuser who can't see potential or worth in other people, and is also completely ignoring bakugo's personality whenever it would lead to suboptimal choices in combat. (does it count as an AU if it's literally the only possible explanation)

all might: "you have a good childhood friend" fuck off. one of the first things we saw bakugo do in this show was tell someone to kill themself and he hasn't improved in five seasons and two movies.

I would think team B would be talking more about who all they'll have Monoma copy. the character is aggravating to watch, but his ability ought to be affecting how people talk about matchups more. can't he copy enemies' quirks just as easily as allies'?

okay monoma's proving to be a bit of a nonbo with shinso's quirk. gonna be hard to get somebody to "answer" you if you never shut up long enough for them to do so.

hm. them black band thingies, I think they're called. -- ah, I was right about the adding in other peoples' quirks to one for all. …I think. pretty sure. six more though??? 'XD damn

you'd kinda think the teachers would have some way of communicating to the students whether a match was canceled when something unexpected happened. seemed to be like nobody was sure if that would be the case, then one person threw a punch and they're just all back in it again. not a very well-controlled situation, for a training exercise.

also… welp. guess I'm going five episodes in. gotta wrap this match up, eh? least I started earlier this time, and somehow got through the first few a bit faster than usual.

yeah yeah mineta, you're a garbage character with a deceptively-cool quirk, now kindly fuck off and let the likable characters back onscreen

eraserhead, apparently: "well, your quirk, like mine, is one that either ends a fight immediately or does nothing at all, so I guess you qualify for Remedial Spider-Man Training. we can't have you going out there without at least this"

k plotline wrapped, I can give it a rest now 'XD now I know shinso should be sticking around, or at least added to class B. these tournament arcs seem to go on forever sometimes but… new powers. strategies. character development at the same time (fine, fake/"informed" character development in bakugo's case). this is my shit.